I change the music.
I change my hair, scent, dress.
I keep moving but my mood is still the same.
I try not to lay down when I come home. Because if I do I know I will stay there. I’ll grow roots for the evening until the night into the morning.
The good pills don’t work anymore. They actually make me feel even blanker. Its possible. I’ve blown $160 this month on them though. I keep holding hope that I will feel as good as they used to make me feel. I take half of one and wait. I take another half and wait. Nothing now.
I don’t have anything good or interesting to write about. I feel like I lost my writing, too.